Laundry Surfing
by slvrhvk
Summary: Thranduil thought it was a good idea, and Bard is just glad they didn't die. [modern au, established barduil]


"Da!?" Sigrid shouted, dropping the house keys on the ground in shock. Legolas ran into her, not realizing she had stopped walking, and soon he was staring wide eyed at the bottom of the staircase as well.

"Ada what... you know... I'm not even going to ask," he decided, shaking his head and walking past the mess into the kitchen. Bain and Tilda peeked around their sister, the young girl giggling at the sight she found.

The facts were these:

Eighteen minutes earlier, Thranduil had decided, after growing bored with whatever book he had been reading, that it sounded like a good idea to go laundry surfing.

Now, laundry surfing, for those unaware, is when one takes an empty laundry basket to the top of a staircase, laying out blankets or sleeping bags down the stairs, before proceeding to climb inside said laundry basket. Once you've done this, you essentially throw yourself down the stairs, the goal being to slide down as smoothly as possible, all while remaining in the laundry basket.

Bard had been fixing the sink in the upstairs bathroom, seeing out of the corner of his eye that his fiancee was running back and forth between the linen closet and the stairs. At first, he elected to ignore it. But after the fourth or fifth trip, his curiosity got the better of him.

Standing up with a groan and dusting off his pants, Bard walked to the doorway of the bathroom. Thranduil seemed to have situated himself inside a laundry basket at the top of the steps. Knowing this could only end badly, Bard spoke up before the blonde could make any movements. "Thrand," he said loudly.

Thranduil jumped a bit, turning his head to look over at the dark haired man in the doorway. "Ah, Bard. Just in time. Watch this."

Bard didn't have time to protest, or really do anything, because in the next instant Thranduil had hopped the basket just over the edge of the top stair, sending him sliding down a mass of blankets and sleeping bags, flying out of the basket when he hit the ground at the bottom. "Thranduil!" Bard shouted in concern, dashing to the stairs from his place in the doorway.

But the blonde's hysterical laughter from his place sprawled on the ground put him at ease, and he shook his head, crossing his arms. "I cannot believe you just did that," he sighed, though he couldn't help the amused smile spreading on his face. "I actually cannot believe you just did that."

Thranduil, still red faced in a fit of laughter, stood up and hoisted the basket into his arms, starting back up the stairs. "You try it, love. It's rather fun," he giggled, and Bard gave him a look of shock.

"No, absolutely not. I, unlike you, don't have a death wish," he exclaimed, shaking his head firmly at the pleading look Thranduil was giving him. "No. Don't give me the eyes. Do not," he warned, looking away from his fiancee, who had stuck out his bottom lip. "You're doing it, you're doing the face! Stop it. I'm not doing it."

"Please?"

Bard sighed in mock exasperation, smiling at his lover and rolling his eyes. "Alright, love. Alright, fine. Whatever. You've got me," he agreed, and Thranduil grinned at him, setting the basket down and pointing at it. "So I just climb in?"

"Yes. Hold onto the sides for a smoother ride," the blonde said, and Bard did just so, pulling his knees up so he fit better. "Ready?"

"Not really," Bard admitted, but Thranduil didn't seem to hear him. So he was shoved unceremoniously down the stairs. The ride was short and bumpy, but fun in the moments it lasted. Until he hit the last step and the basket toppled him onto the ground. Bard lay spread eagle for a moment, trying to regain his senses, before he started laughing.

"See!?" Thranduil yelled from the top of the stairs. Bard didn't have the ability to respond. He was too busy wheezing on the floor, heart racing from the adrenaline the crash had given him. "C'mon, get up, I want to go again!"

"We..." Bard laughed, crawling to his feet and picking up the laundry basket, "We are grown ass men."

"Yes, we are. It's true. Hurry up," Thranduil complained, and Bard jogged up the remaining stairs, putting the laundry basket down in front of his fiancee. Thranduil moved as if to get in, but suddenly stopped, staring at the basket. After a moment, he looked back at Bard with a curious look on his face. "I wonder if we'd both fit."

Bard would have protested, but he wasn't thinking. "I bet we could," he dared, and the two men climbed into the basket together, shifting around awkwardly until they were both securely inside. Thranduil's legs were now straddling Bard's neck, and the dark haired man had his feet sticking out behind his fiancee's back. "Are we going down?"

"Maybe not the best idea, but let's try it," Thranduil shrugged, and Bard grabbed onto the sides of the plastic basket, clenching his teeth together. "Alright, ready? Hop on three. One, two, three."

The two men shifted all their weight forward at that moment, and the basket was sent flying down the stairs. Bard screamed bloody murder as he and his fiancee fell down the stairs, and his arms flailed about as the basket hit the bottom of the staircase. Both flew out, screaming, and landed hard on the ground.

There was a moment of silence, before the two began laughing again. Thranduil knew his elbow was probably bruised, and Bard's back hurt, but neither could stop laughing.

That was when Sigrid opened the door, coming in to find both her fathers laying on the ground with a broken laundry basket and a staircase full of blankets. When the shock had worn off, she shook her head as if she were a disappointed mother, following where Legolas had exited toward the kitchen.


End file.
